


Tied Up in You

by Llama1412



Series: Families of Choice [6]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Bondage, Bottom Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Dom/sub, F/M, Face-Fucking, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Feelings, M/M, Riding, Rope Bondage, Shibari, Sub Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, polycule
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:33:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23916844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Llama1412/pseuds/Llama1412
Summary: Set between episodes 5 and 6. Geralt wants to be tied up – he just has to work up the nerve to ask his lovers. Yennefer and Jaskier are both more than happy to comply when they take their turns with him.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Series: Families of Choice [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1660492
Comments: 6
Kudos: 156





	1. Geralt

**Author's Note:**

> To improve your viewing experience, I recommend viewing [this art](https://jumpandfall.tumblr.com/post/616699592221835264/more-geralt-but-this-time-its-more-realistically) of Geralt tied up and suspended. This fic doesn’t have suspension, but it does have shibari!
> 
> Porn will start in chapter two. First chapter is Geralt having feelings.

Geralt liked being tied up. He liked it a lot. There were only three people on the continent he trusted enough to let himself be vulnerable. One was the man who had first introduced Geralt to ropes, his old friend Mousesack. The other two were special. Geralt might have possibly caught  _ feelings _ for the other two. Not that he was ready to say that yet. Jaskier knew, though. And Geralt is semi-certain that Jaskier must have said something to Yennefer, because she had been softer around him lately – staying not just for a romp in the hay, but to travel with him and Jaskier afterwards on occasion. He almost thought she might love him too, but he understood being slow to trust. 

In the meantime, he was just grateful that she gave him the chance to get to know her. Their tumbles into bed together were wonderful, of course, but to Geralt, it was just that. He enjoyed sex, she enjoyed sex; the two of them having sex together did not necessarily mean she cared for him.

But Geralt trusted Yennefer. Which was important, because he really wanted his lovers to tie him up. Actually, he wanted – well, he wanted to give them a treat, sort of. Geralt wanted to show them how much he trusted them, how important they were to him.

He fantasized of Yennefer tying him up, using him to her heart’s content without letting him come. When she was satisfied, she would trade off with Jaskier, who would spoil him in that was Jaskier loved to do. He wanted to be tied up for all of it – to have Yennefer place the ropes on him and have Jaskier take them off. He was pretty sure they would like that too.

If he could manage to ask them. Which was not at all an intimidating task.

So Geralt worked his way up to it. He decided that they couldn’t use just any old rope to tie up a Witcher. He had to make sure it was strong enough to hold him, after all. And that it was soft enough – he couldn’t go around with those kinds of marks on him, could he? Maybe very rarely, Geralt contemplated. It might be nice to keep the marks he would get from being completely at his lovers’ mercy.

But first he had to ask them. Which meant he had to prepare his rope. The market in Novigrad proved the perfect opportunity. Jaskier was surprised that Geralt was actually interested in looking at fabric, but Geralt passed it off as being cheaper than buying new clothes. He found the material he was looking for – strong enough for him to pull at it, but soft enough to stand around his sensitive skin. It was a shame it only came in a boring plain off-white material, but at least he could twist the sheets into a custom rope. It would take him some time, but that was a good thing – Geralt could use time to prepare himself to ask.

He glanced at Jaskier, who was exclaiming over a rich blue cloak that matched his eyes. Geralt rubbed his fabric between his fingers and made a quick decision. “Do you have any dyes?”

––

He was being ridiculously sentimental, Geralt chided himself. He’d been carrying around the dye materials and fabric for weeks, putting off preparing them by justifying to himself that he couldn’t exactly explain it to Jaskier.

But Jaskier had a court appearance scheduled, some big to-do in Vizima. They had both learned their lesson the last time Jaskier had talked him attending into a royal banquet, so they had parted ways this morning. Geralt would wait out the 3 day festival in the wilderness outside the city, away from the stench and the noise of civilization.

So Geralt really had no excuses left  _ not _ to dye his rope. He’d twisted each sheet into a tight length, and he planned to twist them together for the final rope after he’d dyed them.

After all, off-white wouldn’t look very nice against his skin. And his lovers liked nice things, pretty things. Nothing could make Geralt pretty, but he could still try to make himself more appealing. 

Only the colors he chose had nothing to do with contrast – though they likely would lay against his skin delightfully. But the dyes he’d bought, he could admit to himself, had been chosen for their resemblance to his lovers’ eyes. 

Which was exactly why he was berating himself. Witchers weren’t supposed to  _ do _ sentimental. He was an embarrassment to his kind with these kinds of thoughts. 

That didn’t stop him from boiling water to add the dye materials to, and then separating the fabric between the two bowls. It would take time for the colors he wanted to set, he knew, and he would need to watch closely to get the precise shade he wanted. He settled himself cross-legged in front of the bowls and cleared his mind. He couldn’t fully drop into meditation if he wanted to keep an eye on the color, but it was still restful to just sit and  _ be _ for a time.

And if his thoughts occasionally strayed to scenarios in which his lovers used the rope he was making – well, Roach was the only living being around, and she wouldn’t be telling anyone.

When the fabrics were finally ready, he had two coils of rope – one a bright cornflower blue and one a deep amethyst purple. As he twisted the coils together, he let the lengths drag along his skin and shivered at the sensation. How much better would it be when he was under his lovers’ control? When he was tied up with rope the color of their eyes and helpless to do anything but submit?

It took Geralt a long time to finish twisting the rope into shape. He was forced to take several breaks along the way to relieve the pressure in his trousers. However, he did discover that the rope was indeed strong enough to hold down at least one of his wrists.


	2. Yennefer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yennefer has her turn with Geralt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the porn begins!
> 
> For reference, Yenn ties Geralt up like [this](https://s3.amazonaws.com/thinkific-import/183154/83N4yWOtQNuNwAHl0lc7_diamond%20weave%20arm%20binder.jpg).

Yennefer had taken to traveling with Geralt and his bard on occasion after the whole djinn incident. There was just something about Geralt that fascinated her. So when she ran into the bard in Vizima, it only seemed appropriate to travel together to her next appointment in Velen. It wasn’t that far – only a day’s travel, but it was a chance to spend time with Geralt. She was finding that she enjoyed doing that. Even if it meant the bard was along for the ride too.

Her relationship with Jaskier was unique. They personally hadn’t spent much time together – all of their interactions were because of Geralt. But the bard was witty, and she enjoyed exchanging barbed comments with him. Geralt seemed to think that was called ‘bickering’ and meant she liked the bard, but he was wrong. It was just nice for her lover’s other lover not to be a complete and utter bastard. Not that Jaskier wasn’t – but he was snide in amusing ways, not in condescending needs-to-be-dealt-with ways.

At any rate, when Jaskier approached her while Geralt stabled Roach in Velen and Yennefer booked a room to take Geralt apart in, she expected the bard to complain about her monopolizing Geralt’s attention. What she did  _ not _ expect was for him to lean close enough for no one to be able to overhear and murmur in her ear, “I have a proposal for you.”

His breath ghosting over her ear absolutely did not make her shiver. “Oh?”

“You have to leave sometime tonight, right?” At her nod, he continued, “what do you say you have your fun with Geralt – but don’t let him come. You have to leave something for me afterwards, after all,” Jaskier winked at her.

“What an intriguing proposition,” Yennefer smirked. “It’s still several hours until I need to be elsewhere. I could start now, keep him on edge all that time.” She found herself staring into Jaskier’s face as she spoke, and her eyes flit to his lips when he licked them.

“Tha–” Jaskier stopped to clear his throat when his voice came out a hoarse croak and Yennefer felt victorious. “That sounds like a wonderful plan. But maybe let’s do dinner first. Geralt is going to need his strength tonight.”

Geralt entered the tavern at that moment and stopped in place at the sight of their twin smirks. Geralt rolled his shoulders and looked away from them to check on something in his bag. Satisfied, he made his way the most shadowed corner and claimed a table while Yennefer and Jaskier grabbed their bowls, and the three of them ate a relatively uneventful dinner.

Geralt kept glancing at the two of them nervously during the meal, so Yennefer laid her hand over his thigh, pressed up against hers where they both sat with their backs against the wall. Yennefer had lived through too much to ever allow anyone to creep up behind her – and on occasions like this one where one of them had to slide into the bench and was trapped there by the other, she realized just how much Geralt trusted her.

She was between him and potential enemies. She was between him and escape. And not only did he  _ let _ her be there, he guaranteed it by not rising when they approached.

Trust was an odd thing. Yennefer wasn’t sure if anyone since Istredd had truly trusted her. But she was discovering that trust truly made a difference in how much pleasure she took in her partner. 

She squeezed Geralt’s thigh and shot him a hungry look. Geralt settled under her grasp, and began shoveling food into his mouth faster.

Jaskier laughed at them. “Don’t choke yet, Geralt. There will be plenty of time for that later.”

Yennefer rolled her eyes at the juvenile joke. “You’ll get your turn when I’m through with him, Bard.” She felt Geralt’s shiver where they were pressed together and smirked widely at Jaskier.

Annoyingly unintimidated, the bard grinned and waved them away. “All right, go have fun. And try not to make too much noise – I’ve got a lovely audience down here to entertain with my own noises, thank you.”

“You make more than enough noise for all of us,” Geralt grumbled and kicked lightly at Jaskier’s leg. 

When Jaskier shifted like he might kick back, Yennefer turned the full force of her glare on him and he finally quailed before her. “All right, all right. My adoring audience awaits.” He rose with his typical flourish and waltzed to the middle of the room with his lute.

While Jaskier drew all eyes in the room, Geralt made a break for the stairs and Yennefer chuckled at his eagerness as she followed sedately behind.

When she got to the room, she understood why Geralt had rushed. He was standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, arms by his side and fingers flexing restlessly. On the wooden chest at the base of the bed, he had placed a coil of what looked like home-made rope. His bags lay in a pile, one still unlatched. Had the rope been what he was checking on earlier? 

Well, Yennefer could certainly get on board with tying him up. She knew that Geralt needed to lose control sometimes and she was certainly no stranger to ordering him around in the bedroom. She smirked. “Is that what you need tonight, puppy? To be tied up, helpless under me?”

Geralt bit his lip, body tense, but his head jerked forward in a nod. Yennefer took his mouth in a deep kiss in reward. He sucked desperately at her lower lip for a moment before pulling back to speak against her mouth. “I want you to tie me up and leave me for Jaskier after you’re done,” he exhaled in a rush.

Yennefer felt a rush of warmth in her stomach and pulled him forward to seal their lips together again, licking demandingly into his mouth. When she released him, Geralt was panting rapidly and his golden eyes were nearly overtaken by black.

“Pull out the chest,” Yennefer directed. Geralt’s shoulders relaxed as he followed her order, as if all he’d needed was to be told what to do. Well, she could certainly do that. “Hand me the rope. Then get undressed and straddle the chest.”

He launched into motion immediately, passing her the rope and disrobing in an organized manner. Once he was in position, she ordered, “arms behind your back. I’m going to tie you from shoulder to wrist, and ride you until I’m satisfied.” He whimpered. “Yes, you’ll like that, won’t you, pup?” His shiver was satisfying, as was the way he moved his arms into position.

Just to draw it out, she wove the ropes into a diamond pattern down his back. As each loop tightened around his arms, Geralt’s shoulders loosened and his head lulled forward as his muscles relaxes. “There’s a good boy,” she murmured, and Geralt hummed deep in his chest.

Geralt was so very delicious when he got like this – entirely at her mercy, happily submitting to every command. She kissed her way up his back between the ropes and bit sharply at his neck. Geralt whined and arched back, exposing his half hard cock for her inspection.

Yennefer circled around him and perched on his lap, grasping his slowly hardening cock and guiding it into her. Geralt was always a delightful stretch, and she was somewhat surprised by how aroused tying him up had gotten her. Her thighs were slick where the rubbed against Geralt’s, his leg hair tickling lightly. She clenched around him and  _ felt _ the way he grew inside her. Her hands cupped her own chest and she rolled her nipples between her thumb and forefinger. The bolt of heat that went straight to her core was heightened by the way Geralt tried to lean forward to reach her breast with his mouth and was foiled by the need to balance, his hands scrabbling at the wooden chest below him.

Still, his mouth hung open, tongue slightly extended, begging to be filled. He always did want something in his mouth. “All right,” Yennefer braced herself back on the bench, holding them up so that Geralt could lean forward and suck at her tit. The suction made Yennefer tilt her head back and she braced their weight on one hand so the other could thumb her clit. If her fingers occasionally dipped down further to trace the line where Geralt entered her, well, she could hardly be blamed for enjoying the sound he made.

Her first orgasm was brought on exactly like that, her arm shuddering under their weight, head thrown back in a voiceless cry. Geralt kept sucking at her, moving across to give her other nippple equal treatment. Yennefer let him as her pulse slowly came back to normal. Then she fisted her hand in his hair and drew him back, enjoying his whine. “You did good, pup,” she shoved him back to balance his weight by squeezing his legs around the bench and bracing his hands against it. She put her hands on his shoulders for leverage, “I’m going to ride you now.” 

She squeezed around him as she withdrew, and Geralt made a broken noise that made her feel triumphant. Yennefer dropped back down on him, enjoying the way he stretched her widely. She circled her hips against his, grinding her clit against him. She used his cock to fuck herself hard and fast, until she could sense Geralt approaching the edge.

This time, when she rose, she pulled off of him entirely, and the noise Geralt made was more akin to a sob than a moan. “I know, I know,” she cupped his face and brushed his hair back behind his ear. “You want to come so badly, don’t you?”

_ “Yes!”  _ He choked out.

“Too bad.” Yennefer smirked. “You see,” she circled around him, dragging her nails along his skin, “I promised your little bard I’d leave your orgasm for him.” She leaned down and bit at his lower lip, drawing it into her mouth and sucking. 

Geralt moaned. “Please!”

Yennefer pulled back and held his face to her breast, stroking his hair as if he were a small child she was comforting. “You don’t want to disappoint Jaskier do you? And you certainly don’t want to disappoint me.” He shook his head against her chest, trembling lightly. “Then you understand why you aren’t allowed to come, don’t you?”

Geralt whined, but his hair tickled her collarbone as he nodded. 

“Good boy.” She gripped his hair tight and pulled sharply. “Then put your mouth to work. You’re going to suck my tits until I come again.”

Geralt’s response was an enthusiastic nip.

She passed the next hour in a wonderful haze of pleasure. Every time she felt Geralt getting close to coming, she would withdraw until he had himself under control again. Then she mounted him and chased her own pleasure as many times as she could. When she needed a break from sensation, she liked to sit atop him, warming his cock in her cunt. 

Eventually, Yennefer decided this would be her last orgasm – she was on the verge of running late her for her appointment, but Geralt was so deliciously pliable under her. She squeezed around him and dropped back down, watching his nails scratch frantically at the wood as he tried to hold himself back. She rocked down against him, grinding her clit into his pelvis. Yennefer buried her face in Geralt’s shoulder and dug her teeth into his skin to muffle her yell as she came.

When she came back to herself again, she pulled herself off of him with shaky legs and guided him to sit more comfortably, no longer straddling the chest. She reached down and took his hands, massaging his palms with her thumbs absently. “Do you still want to remain tied up for Jaskier?” She asked.

  
Geralt moaned raggedly.  _ “Yes!” _


	3. Jaskier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier has his fun

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Geralt still has his arms tied up, but Jaskier also ties him like [this](https://s3.amazonaws.com/thinkific-import/183154/WJNgLkHvQNOOd4cFqiZJ_spiral%20futomomo.jpg)

Jaskier had a system for sharing Geralt. Since he traveled with Geralt more often than not, he was also often around when Geralt found a lover to take to bed – just as Geralt was usually around to keep Jaskier from sleeping with anybody  _ too _ dangerous. Neither of them had ever considered monogamy, even before they’d fallen in love. In fact, when they’d first started sleeping together, Posada was hardly a week’s ride behind them and they’d agreed to seek a little stress relief together.

The feelings had come later. But they had come – Jaskier knew that, even if Geralt couldn’t say it. Geralt showed him all the time in other ways – he just wasn’t a words person. 

There was no reason their feelings had to interfere with their very active sex lives. Jaskier still sought other partners regularly, and Geralt certainly managed to get around himself! 

The only reason Yennefer was different from everyone else was because Geralt had feelings for her too. Jaskier wasn’t threatened by this – he knew better than most that Geralt had the capacity for so much love, if only people would accept it. He was, perhaps, a little miffed that Geralt seemed to have fallen for the mage much faster than the Witcher fell for him, but he told himself that was only because Geralt had already been through years of learning to understand his feelings with Jaskier.

Anyway, he was willing to give Yennefer some extra time alone with Geralt. Especially since he was the one who got to crawl into Geralt’s bed while she was off fulfilling some sort of mage’s contract or job or whatever it was that had brought her to Velen.

Jaskier didn’t actually know what Yennefer did for money, and he preferred to keep it that way.

So when he saw Yennefer come down the stairs and give him the ‘wrap-it-up’ signal then point upstairs, Jaskier cut Fishmonger’s Daughter off much sooner than he typically would – but that was the beauty of the song! It was mostly repetition, so he could draw it out for as long or as little as the audience was feeling. 

The audience was actually feeling it tonight, but Jaskier had better things to look forward to. He waved off the pleas to continue playing by claiming a sore throat. When Yennefer waved and headed out the door, he sent her a final wink and hoped she’d enjoyed her night.

He was certainly planning to enjoy his.

Jaskier headed upstairs as soon as he could, and he opened the door to a truly lovely sight – Geralt sat facing away from the door, showing off the way his arms were tied behind his back with a lovely purple and blue corded rope. It was an incredibly vulnerable position – no doubt Geralt waited until he was sure it was Jaskier at the door to move into place, lest he leave his back open to attack – and it reminded Jaskier of all the ways Geralt managed to say  _ I love you _ without actually saying it.

“Well, isn’t this a lovely greeting,” Jaskier hummed and circled around the chest Geralt was sitting on. Geralt was flushed and his skin was covered in a light sheen of sweat – and other things – and his eyes were completely black. Jaskier leered. He enjoyed when Geralt stopped trying to control his eyes – it was one of the first signs of trust from him, of letting himself relax. It was the most benign of his strikingly non-human features, but Geralt had still learned all his life to only let his pupils dilate when he needed low light vision for a hunt. At all other times, he was taught control – and that teaching was reinforced every time a passing villager gasped and drew away at the sight of him, Jaskier knew. The world had taught Geralt to hate his inhuman traits and it broke Jaskier’s heart.

But in this moment, Geralt had loosened his control completely and let his arousal dilate his pupils. As much as Jaskier could sing poetry about Geralt’s golden eyes, he adored when Geralt’s eyes went fully black. It was oddly eerie and sexy and he knew that it wasn’t something Geralt allowed many others to see. 

The blue and purple rope holding Geralt’s arms behind his back was beautiful against his pale skin. It also gave Jaskier an idea. “You know,” he murmured, circling Geralt, who was still sitting on the wooden chest. “You look amazing tied up like this.” He saw a shiver travel up Geralt’s spine. “I bet you’d look even better with your legs tied up as well.” Geralt’s head jerked up to look at him with wide eyes. “Would you like that?” Jaskier asked, reaching out to pet through his hair.

“Yes,” Geralt moaned.

“Good. Sit on the floor for me.” Jaskier went to his own bags and retrieved another length of rope. The black wasn’t as sentimental as the purple and blue rope Geralt had created – and wasn’t  _ that _ something to unpack – but it still looked gorgeous against his skin.

He had Geralt sit on a pillow to keep his arms from scraping the floor, and Geralt tucked his heels up under his bum and spread his legs without being asked. His cock had softened some since the torture Jaskier had no doubt Yennefer put Geralt through, but it was already starting to perk up as Jaskier looped the first tie around Geralt’s left ankle.

“Eager, are we?” Jaskier teased. He let his rope brush against Geralt’s cock as he wrapped it around his thigh. Jaskier continued tying down towards Geralt’s knee. When he moved to the other leg, Geralt’s muscles were trembling finely. “Still okay?” He checked in.

Geralt nodded furiously, “yes,  _ please _ –” Geralt bit his lip to cut off his begging and Jaskier could have that. 

“I want to hear you.” He reached out and ran his thumb along Geralt’s bottom lip, forcing it away from his teeth. Jaskier was distracted by the glisten of saliva on Geralt’s lip and pushed his thumb past his lips. Geralt sucked on his thumb, running his tongue over his finger. 

“Fuck,” Jaskier shook himself and pulled back. “After you’re tied up properly, I’m going to fuck that mouth.” Geralt whined in response, and Jaskier quickly got back to binding Geralt’s leg. When he was finished, he brushed his thumbs across Geralt’s cheek. “How’s that, darling?”

Geralt nuzzled into his hand and mouthed at the heel of his palm. “Good,” he grunted, his teeth grazing Jaskier’s skin. “Kiss me?” Geralt’s eyes could look incredibly imploring when he tried.

Jaskier obliged him, leaning up on his knees to that he was taller than Geralt. He tiled Geralt’s face to look up at him and pressed a soft kiss to his nose, then his forehead, and down his cheek.

“Jaskier–” The sound Geralt made was probably supposed to be a growl, but it came out more like a whimper.

Jaskier laughed lightly, and then dove in to devour Geralt. In all honesty, Jaskier’s own oral fixation rivaled Geralt’s own, and Jaskier had long since decided that this was the key ingredient to making a perfect kiss. Kissing Geralt was something he could happily devote full days to, though Geralt was never one to lounge about just for pleasure’s sake.

A loud moan was drawn from his own throat when Geralt sucked hungrily at his tongue, swaying forward so that his weight leaned on Jaskier. With his arms and legs tied, Geralt was putting all of his movement into Jaskier’s hands. So Jaskier slid his hands through Geralt’s hair and jerked his head back, biting harshly at Geralt’s bottom lip. Geralt’s moan was a rumble in his chest, and he whined when Jaskier pulled away from him.

He stepped back, keeping hold of Geralt’s hair, and admired the sight before him. He’d positioned Geralt to kneel on his shins, hands bound behind his back and thighs tied to his calves. His knees were cushioned by a pillow, and Jaskier had every intention of taking advantage of that. 

“Open for me,” he ordered, and Geralt’s jaw fell, his tongue lolling out, waiting for Jaskier’s cock. He freed his cock, leaving the rest of his clothing on, and pulled Geralt forward by the hand in his hair. The tension on his hair forced Geralt to rock forward onto his knees, toes the only part of him able to assist his balance. Which meant that Geralt was less fed his cock and more shoved directly into Jaskier’s pelvis.

Geralt’s loud moan vibrated through Jaskier and he hissed, tugging on Geralt’s hair and pulling him even further onto his cock. “Fuck, you’re so good for me, darling.”

Geralt whined and attempted to suck messily around his mouthful, tongue flicking along his cock. Jaskier cupped his free hand around Geralt’s cheek and traced his lips where they were stretched wide, spit leaking out as Jaskier pulled back and thrust in again, holding Geralt in place. “This is exactly what you wanted, isn’t it, love?” He crooned and Geralt tried to nod, pulling on his hair. When nodding didn’t work, Geralt tried to respond around his mouthful, making Jaskier moan.

Jaskier had never been one for quiet enjoyment of sex. And the feeling of Geralt’s throat convulsing around his head when he swallowed forced a sound out of Jaskier’s throat that the whole inn could probably hear. “Fuck, Geralt, love, please–” Jaskier’s hips pumped forward faster, cutting off Geralt’s air to enjoy the tight constriction of his throat, then pulling almost all the way out before thrusting forward again. Geralt’s moans weren’t audible over Jaskier’s own noises, but he could  _ feel _ them, vibrating across his cock.

Jaskier knew he wasn’t going to last long, and he had a sudden idea. “I’ve got an offer for you darling, I’m gonna need you to talk.” He pulled back and settled Geralt back on his shins. “Yennefer left me a little present last time,” he smiled at Geralt’s sudden look of apprehension. “No, we’re getting along fine these days, it’s a good gift!” He went back to his bag and pulled out a small bundle of herbs. “Apparently she uses this stuff to grant magic boners. Mine won’t be magic – but it  _ can _ get me hard again.” He raised his eyebrows at Geralt, “so, would you like me to come on your face before I get your ass up in the air and fuck you within an inch of your life?” Geralt whined, but Jaskier continued, “ _ or _ would you like me to eat you out while we wait for me to be able to fuck you into the floor?”

“Oh fuck,” Geralt moaned. “I want – I need – fuck, Jaskier, I need to come!”

Jaskier smiled fondly down at him and stroked through his hair, tugging lightly. “All right, darling, I think you’ve earned some mercy. I will let you come when I fuck you. But first,” Jaskier set the herbs aside for later. “Why don’t you remind me how good you are with that tongue?”

Jaskier offered Geralt his cock again, keeping just far enough way that Geralt had to stretch his neck out to wrap his lips around the head. Jaskier stroked the shaft and let Geralt suckle and lick at him until he hit his peak. Geralt eagerly swallowed the first spurt of cum, but Jaskier pulled back and guided his dick to paint Geralt’s face and hair. Geralt opened his mouth to catch more and Jaskier chuckled. “Don’t worry, darling, I’m not through with you yet.”

Jaskier enjoyed his afterglow, stroking his cum into Geralt’s hair and cooing at his desperate-to-come lover. When he was ready, he pulled away from Geralt and lit the herb in a candle, slowly inhaling the smoke before putting it out. He could feel his cock twitching, slowly getting hard, and even though it should have hurt, so soon after his orgasm, it just felt vaguely nice. 

“All right, love, time for the fucking I promised.”

“Fucking finally,” Geralt grumbled, the corner of his mouth curling up. 

“Watch your tone, you,” Jaskier teased and swatted him lightly on the arse. He hardly gave Geralt a moment to react before he hauled him up and planted Geralt with his arse in the air and face mashed into the bed. Geralt moaned roughly. With his arms still tied behind him, Geralt’s face was taking all his weight, and he turned his head to the side to breathe.

Still fully clothed, Jaskier pulled a vial of oil out of his pocket and dribbled some on his finger. He circled his finger around Geralt’s hole, teasing until Geralt begged.

“Jaskier, please, just –  _ in me,”  _ Geralt growled out, a distinctive whine undercutting his efforts.

“Ask and ye shall receive, my love.” Jaskier pressed his mouth to the small of Geralt’s back and slowly pushed in with two fingers at once. The stretch was likely a bit much at first – they tended not to penetrate each other on the road, saving certain activities just for inns. So it had been a while since they’d last done this – or since Yennefer had. He was positive that mage pegged the fuck out of Geralt, and he absolutely understood why. Geralt was  _ gorgeous _ under him, completely absorbed in his pleasure.

That was the best part about taking control – Geralt couldn’t talk his own brain into letting him enjoy things. But he had learned to let other people give him pleasure – and when he was out of his mind with pleasure, it was awfully hard for even a Witcher’s brain to sow doubt. Geralt arched his back, trying to get Jaskier’s fingers further inside him, but he had no leverage in this position, no ability to move at all, beyond his finger and toes. Jaskier smirked and crooked his fingers to just lightly brush over that spot inside him, still teasing.

Geralt groaned. “Goddammit, Jaskier, get on with it!”

Jaskier laughed and added another finger, spreading them wide. Geralt loved the feeling of being stretched and he moaned loudly, attempting to silence himself by turning his face into the mattress. The movement rubbed the cum still painted over his face into his skin.

“Ah, ah, ah,” Jaskier scolded, reaching up to tug sharply on Geralt’s hair with his free hand. “You know I want to hear you, darling. Sing for me.”

He added a fourth finger and angled both to skim ever so lightly over Geralt’s prostate, pulling at his hair again.

Geralt made a low noise and begged. “Fuck, Jaskier, if you don’t want me to come, you need to  _ get in me already!” _

“Hmm, I think I need to fuck that attitude out of you, don’t I?” Jaskier withdrew his fingers and spilled more oil over them to slick his cock. He wiped his hand on the bed and grasped Geralt’s hips tightly. “Ready?” He asked, but as Geralt drew breath to swear at him, Jaskier thrust in deep, not stopping until he was flush against Geralt’s arse.

Geralt damn near  _ shrieked  _ and Jaskier felt a deep sense of satisfaction. He held still, even though Geralt’s slick heat clenched tightly around him. His fingers dug deeply into Geralt’s hips, though it still probably wouldn’t bruise the Witcher.

_ “Move,”  _ Geralt growled, still mouthing off. He’d have to fix that.

“If you’re so eager to do something with your mouth,” Jaskier drew nearly all the way out and rammed back in, loosening his hold on Geralt’s hips. Without being held in place, Geralt’s face slide further onto the bed, smearing cum in its wake. “Lick up the mess you’re making.”

Geralt moaned, his face flushing with embarrassment, but he opened his mouth and dragged his tongue through the mess.

“Fuck,” Jaskier swore and thrust faster, leaning forward enough to slip his hands around Geralt’s chest without crushing his arms. Jaskier twisted Geralt’s left nipple and thrust directly against his prostate. He pulled out and targeted Geralt’s prostate.

Before long, Geralt’s face was slack with pleasure, his open mouth sliding against the stained sheets, his drool adding to the mess. His muscles were totally relaxed under Jaskier, moving easily into whatever position Jaskier pulled him.

“I was going to take you nice and slow,” Jaskier murmured, because there was nothing he hated more than silence. “But you’re just too delicious for my restraint. And you’ve been so very patient, haven’t you? Waited so long to come.” He reached down and wrapped his hand around Geralt’s cock, stroking him slowly. Geralt whined wordlessly, eyes half closed. “You’ve been such a good boy,” Jaskier kissed Geralt’s back through the rope. The rope that Geralt had made, that was the color of his own eyes blended with the color of Yennefer’s eyes. Geralt was such a romantic sometimes. 

“You just wanted to give yourself to us, didn’t you? You sweet boy, how long have you been waiting to ask us, hmm?” Jaskier curled his back and kissed down Geralt’s bound arm. “Did you dream of what it would be like, giving yourself to us, tied up with the very rope you made?” Geralt moaned louder. “Because you have given yourself to me, haven’t you, Geralt?” He twisted his wrist over the head of Geralt’s dick and finally gave him permission. “Come for me, darling.”

Geralt obeyed, arching as much as he was able. His drawn out moan was only slightly muffled in the sheets, tears streaking down his face. The way Geralt convulsed around him drove Jaskier over the edge, gripping Geralt’s hips tightly and muffling his own scream by biting at Geralt’s arm. 

Jaskier panted, working to catch his breath as he pulled out of Geralt and rolled him back to rest against the pillow, weight on his shins instead of his head. Geralt was a dead weight against him, and Jaskier realized that the force of his orgasm had actually made Geralt pass out.

Was it wrong to be proud of himself for that?

Jaskier shrugged aside the thought and freed Geralt’s arms, setting the hand-made rope aside. Then Jaskier stopped to consider his next move. It would be ideal to lay Geralt down before removing the ropes around his legs. Could he lift Geralt up onto the bed without help?

Not likely. Well, looks like they’d be camping out on the floor for a bit. At least they had a pillow.

Jaskier gently tilted Geralt back until he was laying flat against the floor, then he untied Geralt’s legs and stretched them out. Jaskier started kneading Geralt’s limbs, figuring that if Geralt couldn’t wake up on the bed, he could at least have a massage. Jaskier leaned forward to press a kiss over Geralt’s heart, nuzzling into the hair there. 

He’d left an indentation of his teeth on Geralt’s arm when he bit him, and Jaskier traced over it lightly before grabbing some salve from Geralt’s bag and wiping it over the mark where his teeth had broken skin. Task finished, Jaskier curled up around Geralt on the floor and hoped the Witcher would wake before the floor got too cold. But it didn’t really matter. Jaskier was curled up around Geralt, and it didn’t matter if they were laying on the floor on an inn, the comfiest bed, or the damp forest floor. There was nowhere else he’d rather be.

**Author's Note:**

> I've got this mostly written, so I will post the next chapter as soon as I finish editing and then I'll finish the final chapter.


End file.
